thawingthoughts

[thawingthoughts]

To All The Boys I’m Tired of Loving...

Does this shit get any easier?

Dear Tumblr, it’s me, Becca.

It’s been a while.

I’ve been hand journaling lately, but I feel like I have too many thoughts and emotions to be limited to the speed of my carpal tunnel. 

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I broke up with the person I thought was supposed to be the love of my life in July last year. It fucking sucked, but it was the best decision I’ve ever made without question. The life I lived in those months after was more life than I had lived in my 23 years prior. I went to a foreign country, I moved, I made better friends, lost bad ones, made moves in my career and, well, fell in love again?

Which brings me to today, another fucking shitty day.

Love doesn’t suck, but navigating relationships in your 20s does. 

Today I’ve spent the day crying my eyes out over a guy who technically was never my boyfriend. I genuinely never thought that would be me. Who the fuck am I right now? 

Anyway, let’s continue. 

In August 2018 I met a boy (because let’s face it if they’re under 30 they’re not a man) who wrecked my heart. Which, like I said who the fuck am I to let that happen?

He was too good to be true, and sure enough, he was. 

In our Pete Davidson / Ariana Grande pace of a relationship, we shared a lot of life, a lot of sex, and I think more love than either of us care to admit. Much like the famous duo though, I think we were both in a lovesick rebound. Saying that doesn’t discount the validity in the emotions of the relationship, but it does give justification for its exhilarating but devasting end.

Like a deadly car crash from street racing, things went from 100 to zero, quick.

I think at the end of it though, I put him on an unwarranted pedestal because of the trauma he experienced in his life. And that’s not fair to me. 

Yes, in that relationship I had a lot of guards up. I pursued something much bigger than I had ever anticipated. I fell harder than I thought I could fall, and I was so afraid of those emotions and if they were real. 

I let a man say all the things I wanted and needed to hear. Treated me like a fucking queen in a way I had never experienced before. Listened like no one I had ever met. stupidly handsome, passionate, funny, incredible in bed...the list can go on. 

But also, let’s call the bullshit where we can now. Rose-colored glasses off. 

He’s got demons I can’t help, especially if he has no desire to help himself. His personality tends to bleed politician in order to skate around truly expressing himself. He scapegoat’s bad communication with vague statements. He’s extremely intentional in the moment but has poor follow through. Literally runs away from a confrontational situation. 

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I remember after that first date though, that I thought I had met my match. And I was fucking terrified. Never in my life had I been on such an incredible first date. And no, that’s not to say that it was like a rom-com with these insane bells and whistles, but there was a chemistry between us like I had never felt before. 

We met like any millennial in 2018, on a dating app. I had zero expectations. His profile had no info and he was roughly my age, so the fact that I had swiped right...surprised I did honestly. 

I remember I half-ass dressed up for this date, almost canceling last minute until I realized the restaurant was right around the corner from my office. 

I enter the restaurant, late, huffing and puffing and hot in the August heat (lol it’s Portland so it’s probably only 80 something degrees). I see him there and he’s in this wonderful suit and I feel like a hot mess, quite literally. We were probably there for three hours? We hit every topic that makes me wet: feminism, how Portland is so white, our shared Latinx experiences, liberal politics, I don’t even remember what else. I just remember calling my mom on my way home saying I’m fucked. Saying why the hell did God put this person in my life at this moment when I made such a fucking loud declaration to the universe that I was not ready. 

He’s the only person I ever asked out on a second date. And that date was just as great as the first. We got dessert at my favorite place in town late at night after an extremely tough day at work. 

Next his ass helped me move apartments.

Then the following week we ended up at the movies watching such a heavy movie, both needing a drink afterward. Next thing I know it’s four in the morning and we’re parked in his car outside of the movie theater. We’ve already made a seven-eleven run for gum and water.

I, being the confrontational person I am, asked him what’s his deal. In my head how does a guy pursue a woman like this without wanting to seriously date? Because, per my mantra earlier, I was not trying to date. 

He told me his story, and it eerily mirrored mine. He and his partner of three years broke up that summer because of cheating. He was trying to get back in the game. He wasn’t looking for anything serious, but having a hard time navigating the app scene. He said a lot of girls said they felt like he wanted something serious because he was so nice, but that wasn’t the case. 

I, of course, felt instant relief and also that there was a storm destined for our future. 

We were in the same boat, hurray, but knowing the person I was and who I was actively trying so hard not to be, I was going to fall. Fucking hard.

And fucking hard I fell. 

We kissed that night. It was hands down one of the, if not the, best kiss of my life. I don’t know if it was the build-up at the time, my constant experience with men who suck at kissing, or my current raw emotions, but as of right now he can keep that title. 

The following night I ask him out to dinner and took him home. We hooked up and I was blown away. So of course, like any person who has been deprived of good sex for a long time, had him over for too many late nights during the work week. 

Were either of us getting quality sleep? No. Was it the most fun I had in a long time? Absolutely. 

Then all of a sudden we were spending a lot of time together. More than just late nights, more than just evening dates. We were sharing our work days and our work lives with one another. We’d sometimes get lunch together. He was taking me to events. I met his friends. He slept over 3-4 nights a week. We shared deep stuff going on in our lives.

That shit scared me. A lot. 

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I’d been a serial monogamous. Been in three three-year relationships. All so different from one another, but all-in-all, bad. None of them ended well. I was cheated on in every single one. 

The first one I was so god damn young that I can’t fault either of us at that time anymore. We’ve learned and grown and after probably more years than I’m proud of, I forgave him.

The second was a rebound from the first; it just happened to last three whole years. We were co-dependent in a way that was toxic for both of us, but we were just college kids who hadn’t ever been in truly healthy relationships before then. I don’t know if forgiveness is the right word in this one, but I’ve learned to let go of my baggage from it.

The third one...was a nightmare. It wasn’t at first and we had two beautiful years, but that last year was brutal. He lied to me. He cheated on me. He called me a cunt. He gaslit me. He harmed my growth when I became a more independent person...the list can go on. 

The point is, I hadn’t been lucky in love yet. I had a pattern of loving hard and not receiving that equal love back. Additionally, I hadn’t truly ever been my own person yet. Moving to Portland was my first big step into becoming my own person, and breaking up with ex #3 was my second. So unfolding myself to this new person, and potentially building a life with him in this city that I had built a life for myself, fucking terrified me. 

Because of all that, I was selfish. Selfish that was not in any way fair to him. I loved the way he made me feel, the way he treated me, the sex, etc., that I refused to address the relationship that was building between us. I didn’t want to lose what we had, but I was also too afraid to let him into a bigger part of my life and my plans. 

Where I was at in my process at that time was too focused on what if it doesn’t go according to plan? What if he breaks my heart? What happens when I get a job outside of Portland? 

I set that stage of what our relationship was because I wanted to control as much as I could of what was going to happen to me. I wanted to be as calculated as possible in order to not fall victim to my past mistakes. 

By the time I had decided to fully open up though, to be as vulnerable as he’d been with me, it was too late. 

Things had changed and I was too busy worrying about me to fully see that. 

I will take ownership of my selfishness in the situation. I will take ownership in my over communication but not the clearest communication. I will take ownership of the fact that I was not in the right place for something that could’ve been so beautiful. 

BUT - all that being said, there’s some ownership I wish he’d take. Like for letting me walk all over him like that. For not being more clear on his wants and needs. For not following through on his words and apologies. For not acknowledging that maybe he was just as not ready for this as I was. And lastly, for not letting me go when he should’ve. 

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For almost two whole months we played games. And I don’t play games. 

He gave me “what, do we go back to being strangers?” and “You’re such an important part of my life and I’m not ready to lose you.” 

At first, yes I said maybe we shouldn’t talk. A week later I changed my mind on that, and the second I did I let him know. After that, I tried to be as accommodating to his state of mind, his career, and his bandwidth. I was honestly fine because at that point I had accepted where he was and where I was, and I was willing to see what our next check-in would bring. 

When I was no longer fine was when that check-in came up and he blew me off. For the first time if felt like his actions and his words didn’t align, and that hurt. We were supposed to get coffee, and I stupidly was too excited for such a mundane hang out. It had been so long since I’d seen him, and at that point, I was just happy to hear about his life. To catch up. This person had been a part of my daily life for four months and then all of a sudden dropped off the face of the planet. 

When he never reached back out about coffee that day though, I felt such a change. This amazingly incredible person I had built up in my head - shattered. 

I wanted to give him the benefit of the doubt. Give him a full day to respond. That night I did happen to go out with some friends I’d never really spent time with before. While I was out I ran into one of his friends, who seemed to know more about my relationship than I did at that moment. 

It felt like salt being poured on an open wound. 

The next day I confronted him via text, my least favorite platform. I expressed how upset I was with him, which was hard for me to do since this was my first time being truly angry / upset / disappointed in him. He sent me a very politically correct response but did offer to meet up that night to chat.

So we did. We drove around in his car for an hour because that’s about all the time he had. And I did appreciate every moment of that hour. 

He apologized in the way every person in a fight with someone they care about should apologize. He validated my feelings, told me I didn’t have to forgive him at that moment, took full ownership of the situation, and promised to do better.

The thing is though, he didn’t do better. a pattern formed before my eyes. 

After the conversation, I sent him a long text. All of me hated sending a text like that, but I knew I had thoughts I needed to get off my chest and there was no other way to do it given our circumstances. 

No response. Which I expected at that moment because I sent the message so late.

But then a day went by, and two days, and then a week, and then two weeks. 

Wow. 

How am I supposed to believe any of these sentiments - “what, do we go back to being strangers?” “You’re such an important part of my life and I’m not ready to lose you” - ring any truth when this is the way I keep being treated? 

So we come up on week two of no response, and I end up at an event put on by his work. My office sponsored a couple tables at the event, which I went on behalf of the office but also because I wanted to get the closure I felt I deserved at that point. 

I took a big risk praying that A: he’d want to talk to me, and B: offer me a ride home so that we can actually talk. My phone was dead, I hadn’t driven there, and all my coworkers left before the end of the event. 

A buzzed me took a giant sip of wine and walked over to his table at the end of the event boldly saying “are you gonna act like you didn’t see me tonight?” 

He flashed that god damn smile of his that gets me every time and gave me some runaround. I still don’t believe he didn’t see me. I digress.

I make the rounds I need to with him in order to get to my end goal, to actually having the sit-down conversation I needed. That was hard for me since the last time I did that with him we were  “together,” and I’m sure all of those people know no different. 

Shots were fired, jabs were made, but we made it that conversation I’d been desperately seeking. It wasn’t the conversation I wanted, but the one I needed. 

That shit hit cold; not only because it was the official ending of an era of my life, but also I felt I didn’t articulate myself the way I wish I had. Which I guess is why I’ve spent three hours in the middle of the night writing all this out. 

Afterthoughts of that night: 

I am done apologizing for my faults in the situation because I’ve done that more than deserved. 

I am tired of him using the excuse that he’s made it clear where he’s at mentally as a dismissal for his mishandling of me and my emotions in this situation. 

I don't know if we’ll ever see eye-to-eye on the above statement because of our communication styles and our defensive levels for ourselves.

I tried so hard to actively avoid getting hurt in this “situationship,” yet this just as painful and torturous as all my other serious breakups. 

I don’t think I’ve ever been so angry at but so concerned for someone at the same time. 

From a third-party viewpoint, it’s easy to objectively list out all the reasons this relationship would never work (there’s A LOT). Somehow those rationalizations don’t make this hurt any less, and that fucking sucks. 

I will never be able to listen to Miguel the same way. 

I do truly hope there is a point in our lives that we can be friends again. 

I’m done putting him on a pedestal, but he is the best person I’ve ever dated. I do genuinely hope the best for him because despite how fucked up this situation was/is, he’s a wonderful person at his core with his own demons to face. 

WHAT DID I LEARN THOUGH??

This has been hard to tap into, but I know it’s vital to think through in order to get over this situation. 

God’s timing is funny, but there’s a reason for everything. 

Do not use the apps unless you’re ready to pursue a relationship; they cause more emotional labor / drama than you want or need

That organic personality / sexual chemistry is essential. There’s a lot to work on in relationships, but that shouldn’t be one of them. 

You can’t start a relationship / situationship when you’re emotionally unavailable.

Work on the balance of being there for someone and being selfless to the point of self-sabotage. 

The date bar has been set - don’t settle for a man who can’t afford to treat you like you deserve to be treated (as a feminist I’m torn by this statement, but as a woman who loves to be romanced...whoops).

Continue to take your time with relationships. This one may have failed, but that wasn’t because of taking it slow. 

Being with someone who inherently understands your background and values in invaluable. 

The second you recognize a pattern, address it and move forward / get out. 

FINAL THOUGHTS

This was fucking rough. So fucking rough. 

I went through such a roller coaster of emotions today. For the first time in my life, I am the single friend of my core friend group. I’m also alone here in Portland and breaching a point where I’m about to outgrow my core friends in their life stages. 

Fuck, my baby girl is getting married soon. My brother is moving in with his girlfriend. And I’m over here wondering if the rest of my life is going to consist of a bad work/life balance, too much booze, bad dates, and worse sex? 

Also, if anything I’m so god damn afraid to open up to someone ever again. Because what if that person says their willing to wait because “I’m worth it” and then this happens, all over again. How many times do I have to go through this until I find the one?

Agh. Clearly, there’s still a lot to work through. And at least I’ve learned that despite this absolutely awful sex drought, the drought is better than giving a piece of yourself away to every shitty guy who wants to get in your pants on every dating app. 

Dating in Portland though? Slim pickings. Which make finding that spark with someone again feel almost like an impossible feat. 

Hopefully when I go to bed, this’ll all get a little easier. Day by day. Because time heals all wounds right? 

One of the worst expressions to an impatient person though. 

Alright, goodnight Internet. 

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P.S.

Who knows if I’ll ever be bold enough to send this to the man himself, but if I do, this is a raw emotional rendition of me and I hope you take that into consideration as you read it. 

Bye Rico, what we had was so special, but such a fucking mess. I’ll miss you quite terribly. 

[thawingthoughts]

I Wrote My Way Out...

Here it is, 3 a.m., and I have no idea why the fuck I’m up. Honestly, it’s kind of incredible after spending a day dreading writing that I would turn to it in the evening to ease my thoughts. 

Anyway, I don’t normally do this. Staying up until 3 am recklessly binge-watching new tv shows is not my thing, but hey maybe that’s why I’m doing it. I’m not bad often. I don’t ever divert from my plans. But today...it’s just been a weird day.

So let’s get to what’s really on my mind here: the boy. He’s been in Australia for what? 11 days? I thought it’d be glorious. I’d ace all my exams, I’d have so much free time to get the shit I need to get done, well done, but I was wrong. It’s been miserable and I feel homesick. I feel like one of those stupid tumblr posts that say “sometimes home isn’t always a place, but a person.”

But here’s the thing - I don’t know if it’s because I need to get out of the Baylor Bubble or maybe just stay off Facebook, but I feel like I’m a hot mess. 

I’ve told myself over and over I’m not ready to get married right now. That marriage is more than just being with someone forever. But I think about this stupid fucking kid and I think about our future and all I can ever think is how could I ever want to spend the rest of my life with someone else. Which sucks because I had a plan - and maybe that’s why this is bugging me. Because I HAVE A PLAN. and he doesn’t. And he keeps giving me this elusive bullshit that tells me how much he loves me but let's see where this goes and I don’t know. I want a plan. I want a five-year plan. I want a I want to move in with you because I do want to marry you plan not a I want to see where this goes. I want a yes I can see the rest of my life with you plan. 

But maybe I’m asking too much. Or I’m freaking myself out over nothing. Or I just don’t fucking know, and I’m not good with that. And maybe this is only bugging me because for the first time in my life I don’t have set plans waiting for me. I’m playing a guessing game and I don’t know if I’ve chosen the right door to the pathway to my success. 

Maybe I’m so emotional tonight because for the first time in my life I’m about to start something that truly scares me, and I’ve never done that. I’m about to start that great perhaps I’ve always romanticized through stupid novels and books, and I’m scared I’m not ready. in 10 days I cross that stage and it’s finally hitting me that I’ll never share this experience again. I’ll never live with my best friends again. I’ll never be able to complain about stupid college shit that doesn’t even matter but matters to me right now with my favorite people. What if really the plus or minus 10 people in my life that I truly love from college - what if by August that’s over? I’ve never loved anything like I love Fissy, Kelly, Kelsey, Lexi, and Amber. I didn’t know that despite girls fucking sucking that there are a few that I can trust with my friendship. Friends are hard to find and even harder to keep, especially for me. 

And as for the boy - I don’t appreciate Andrew saying our life is like LaLa Land, because that only confirms every feeling I have in the deep pit of my stomach about how I feel about you, about us, and about how you’re going to wreck my heart. I’m gonna say there’s no way I’ll get the job, and you’ll drop me off at that airport when I do and tell me it’s time for me to pursue my dreams and for you to do the same. Then we flash forward five years and I’m married with kid and your single and I run into you while visiting some friends in Dallas and we get a glimpse of what each other’s lives are now, and begin to think about what they could’ve been. I don’t want to live in that dream, because frankly it’s my nightmare. I’ve never loved someone the way I love you. And I don’t know if that’s the world telling me that this is it, or that I’m about to be served one of my biggest life lessons yet. 

But maybe I just need to breathe, take a yoga class tomorrow or something.